


On Call

by bestworstperson



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Professors, Blow Jobs, Bottom Hannibal Lecter, Bottom Will Graham, Established Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Eye Contact, M/M, Orgasm Control, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing, Top Hannibal Lecter, Top Will Graham, Under-Desk Blow Jobs, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:49:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24033052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestworstperson/pseuds/bestworstperson
Summary: At first, they couldn't keep their hands off each other, but that was 8 weeks ago. The stress and social-isolation had gotten to them and Hannibal knew just how to fix it.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 92





	On Call

Hannnibal and Will had been in self-isolation for nearly eight weeks. At first, it was a reprieve from their busy schedules, between Will's work at the university and Hannibal taking on more patients, it'd felt like years since they'd spent any serious time together. Will had stopped consulting for the FBI (though the actual term was "fired") but his teaching gig at John Hopkins University, a job Hannibal had...persuaded...the board to give him kept him plenty busy. The circumstances under which Hannibal was able to regain patients, let alone a license, were less clear. Even their dinners together were sporadic. Hannibal's cooking habits hadn't changed, of course, but they rarely ate together now, instead of retreating to their respective offices to let a dish grow cold while they worked. When Mayor Young first closed the city, they both kept working at the same breakneck speed, but as lockdowns and sickness spread, patients adverse to teletherapy paused treatment and JHU's pandemic response plan was essentially "figure it out", so, aside from conference calls with the faculty, Will's schedule had cleared up too. They quickly found ways to fill their new-found free time. But that was six weeks ago. Everything had a downward sloping curve, including their ability to debase and defile each other in every room of the house, and by the start of week three, it was as if their schedules hadn't changed at all. And, well, they'd both done isolation without the other already and Hannibal wasn't particularly interested in repeating that experiment. 

* * *

"How's your schedule today?" Hannibal was near the stove getting a head start on what would eventually become their lunch. "What? Uh, um, not terrible. The department has an all-hands call to discuss our continuity plan," Will gestured with the report his department head had left in the mailbox the day prior. "I'm not sure what the point is though given we'll have to cede to what the dean wants anyway. In a way, it's comforting that, even during a pandemic, admin can still find a way to waste my fucking time." Will tossed the plan (that could have and should have been an email) on the counter and downed the now-cold coffee. "You've been awfully stressed out lately, Will. The current state of things adds enough pressure without you placing an undue burden on yourself by trying to maintain the same level of productivity as-" 

"If you want to restart our sessions, Hannibal, you can just say so." 

"Now, Will, this relationship's crossed more than enough ethical lines, don't you think?" 

Will looked up to find Hannibal smirking at him in that way only he could pull off. He pushed off the counter, grabbing the report, before exiting the kitchen. "Call me when lunch is ready"

* * *

"Margot I'm not saying we don't need a plan, I'm saying trying to form a plan before we know what we're planning for is a waste of everyone's time." 

"Oh well excuse me! I had no idea we were in the presence of someone so in demand! Do tell us, _William,_ what we have done to earn such a blessing!" 

"That's not...jesus, Margot, I'm just trying to...forget it." Will threw his hands up in resignation and rolled his eyes. He'd been on this conference call with the criminology department for two hours and they'd made exactly zero forward progress. Just like the meetings on campus, it was little more than a bunch of intellectual posturing and Margot and Anthony bickering back and forth, with Roman half-asleep the entire time. But regardless, Will had resigned himself to the situation at hand. Obviously, more than obviously, he couldn't go back to the bureau, but was this job worth it? He scanned his desk, fruitlessly shuffling papers around, for the cup of coffee he could have sworn he'd brought with him but came up empty. As if on cue, Hannibal walked through his office door with a tray holding a fresh cup and full pot. There was a ceramic creamer jar on the tray, peculiar given that Will took his coffee black, but as Hannibal got closer the scent grew stronger. Whiskey. Bless him. Hannibal set the tray down silently and Will gave him a quick nod and small smile before upending the entire contents of the ceramic container into the mug. He'd expected Hannibal to leave but instead, he crossed in front of Will's desk in the center of the cavernous room and removed his jacket. Why he insisted on wearing a three-piece suit when they weren't leaving the house and even on days he had no virtual clients, Will had no idea but that's not to say he didn't still appreciate the view. He took a long sip of his coffee, the whiskey relaxing him a bit, and tried to refocus his attention on the call, but when he realized Margot was relitigating the same point she'd been making for the past hundred and twenty minutes, he gladly redirected his gaze towards Hannibal who'd already draped his waistcoat over the back of a chair and begun calmly and casually rolling up his sleeves. Will cocked his head to the right, unsure what Hannibal was doing. If he wanted to change, did it have to be in here? Not that Will minded it was just...strange? Will knitted brows as he raised his eyes to meet Hannibal's. The second their eyes locked Will understood everything much more clearly. Hannibal held his gaze as he threw off his tie, showing far less concern over where it landed and loosened the top few buttons of his shirt. Will's mouth fell open. "Um." 

"What was that Will?" His eyes snapped back to the computer screen and coffee splashed over the rim of the mug, burning his hand. 

"What? Uh, nothing. Fuck, uh, sorry. Fuck." Will scrambled to set the mug down on his desk and shook the coffee off his hands. He risked a few more glances at Hannibal, who, of course, remained composed, before refocusing his attention on the call. 

"Uh. Sorry. Where were we?" Will gave a tight smile to his coworkers. 

"ANYWAY, like I was saying, the students deserve answ-" 

Will exhaled deeply and sat back in his chair before his eyes settled just above his monitor. On Hannibal. Who was now standing right behind his desk. Will swallowed hard as his eyes cut from Hannibal to his monitor and back again. Hannibal held Will’s gaze as he sunk to his knees. Will’s head jerked back the smallest amount, his brows knitting together in confusion; that is until he felt Hannibal’s firm hands grip his calves. Will’s entire body stiffened. Hannibal ran a hand up his right leg which helped him relax a little. He pushed his chair back slightly to chance a glance under his desk while, for some reason, trying to remain some level of focus on the meeting. When he looked, there was Hannibal.

Looking back.

On his hands and knees.

Pupils blown wide.

Ready and willing.

He could have made up an excuse to go, he _should_ have made up an excuse to go and click out of the chat window before taking Hannibal over his desk but as his hand reached for the mouse he realized, no, that wasn’t the goal. Hannibal wasn’t doing this to get Will to end the meeting. No. This was...not a test...not even a challenge, not really. Their relationship had plenty of those, but this was different. After weeks of stagnation, this was a show of appreciation. A giving of thanks. Will shifted lower and closer, sending up a silent prayer of thanks to the god he didn’t believe in that he’d repurposed his workbench as a desk after Hannibal had given him an entire room for his fly fishing gear; it gave him just enough cover to unbutton and unzip his jeans. He brought his hands to his waistband, hesitating slightly. He could feel Hannibal’s hands grabbing somewhat impatiently at the fabric, but Will knew this next move had to be timed perfectly or all hope was lost. There wasn’t a graceful way to explain to your entire department why, exactly, you’d decided to remove your pants in the middle of a meeting. Quickly and efficiently, he lifted himself out of his chair just enough to give Hannibal space to work with, hoping like hell it looked like he was just readjusting his seating position, before dragging his chair as close to his table as he could. Even with the additional height from the table, there was no way Hannibal would be able to fully take him, not without being seen on camera, but Will’s body was too charged up in anticipation to put a stop to whatever this was.

Hannibal managed to get Will’s jeans off entirely and pulled down his boxer briefs just enough to leave him exposed. In a last-minute moment of clarity Will reached for the laptop’s trackpad to leave the meeting (or at least mute the mic), but sudden pressure at the base of his cock told him the risk was part of the whole point. Will let out a sharp exhale and tried to relax, a futile effort, as Hannibal ran his hands up and down his toned legs. Will’s hands gripped the chair's armrests as his eyes locked in on the blue light at the top of his monitor that told him, yes, his camera was indeed still on. Will glanced down at this lap and was shocked at how hard he was. Hannibal had barely done anything and he was already on the verge of unraveling. Jesus fuck, how much longer was this meeting going to last? Margot and Anthony were arguing about god knows what now which would hopefully and finally expedite things. Hannibal's hands had made their way to Will's cock now and were dancing, feather-soft along his length. It was excruciating and Will's thighs began to shake as he tried to maintain control. He let out a shaky breath and gripped the chair even tighter. Hannibal's fingers kept moving and Will decided he'd had enough of this pointless meeting. His cursor hovered over the "leave meeting?" button and was just about to free himself from this experience, which was, of course, right when Anthony asked "Well, what do you think Will?

* * *

Will shifted awkwardly in his seat. They hadn't been caught but it also didn't feel like they hadn't _not_ been caught. Regardless, Hannibal's hands weren't slowing down so...okay...I guess they were doing this. 

"Um. Well. I...think...that we," Will's voice was uneven and he knew it. Margot rolled her eyes as what little remained of her patience faded away. "I think we need to consider that this lasts longer than we originally planned for. And that by September we-" Will's next words caught in his throat as Hannibal, who'd evidently found more than enough space to work with, swiped his tongue across the head of Will's cock. Will cleared his throat and tried to continue. "Um, sorry, like I was saying. By September we may not be-" Hannibal's tongue made another quick swipe across his head and goddammit, it was almost embarrassing how thoroughly Hannibal could undo him, even with the slightest touches. 

"Will? Are you alright?" Concern tinged Anthony's voice. Will pressed his lips in a tight line. Hannibal's tongue had set a gentle but persistent pace, and all he could do was give a sharp, slight nod of his head. He cleared his throat again. "Yes. I'm fine. Must have something caught in my throat is all." He let out another shaky breath as his left hand moved from the armrest to find Hannibal's wrist under the table. He gripped it tightly, a warning of sorts, but Hannibal just took it as his cue to wrap his fingers around Will's balls, adding just enough pressure to make Will bite his cheek. 

"I think what Will is trying to say," Anthony continued, "is that we need to be prepared for the possibility that we're still doing this come Fall semester. Is that right, Will?" 

He could only nod. 

He could no longer concentrate on anything. The conference call. Hannibal. It didn't matter. He was lost in the feeling of Hannibal's mouth and hands on him, to what little degree they could be, and all Will knew was that it wasn't enough. He needed more. How long had it been since Hannibal'd started touching him? How much longer could he last like this? As if hearing his silent pleas, Roman finally spoke up. "Well if that's the case then that's not a plan we'll make in one meeting, given that we haven't even been able to make a plan for this meeting. Why don't we all take the weekend to think things through and we'll regroup Mon-" 

Will had never moved so fast in his life. In one seamless motion he slammed his laptop shut, pushed his chair back, and pulled Hannibal closer. 

"I need you. Now." 

Hannibal took all of him in one go and Will's hands quickly found purchase in Hannibal's hair. He gaspsed for air as if he was drowning as Hannibal moaned around his length, throat flexing eagerly. "Hannibal," Will near-whispered as his hips thrust upward. Hannibal's moans got deeper, sending chills down Will's spine. "God, Hannibal, yes. Yes." Will's knees opened wider, but instead of settling in further, Hannibal lifted his head and replaced his mouth with his hand. He sat back on his heels, while his hand made lazy strokes up and down Will's shaft.

"How was your meeting?"

Will's mouth went dry as his breath became more labored. He was so hard, and god, so close. Hannibal had him right on the edge and all he wanted to do was dive. "Hannibal. Please." They held each other's gazes as Hannibal leaned forward and dragged both his tongue and his hand up the length of Will's cock. When Hannibal's thumb rubbed firmly over his head, both men moaned. Will's voice was desperate as he spoke again, "Hannibal. Please." This was torture. He needed to come now. Hannibal's head descended once more at a tortuously slow pace. Will's hands gripped Hannibal's hair again and his hips thrust upwards as he felt himself coming ever closer to letting go. Any attempt at a steady rhythm was lost and Will's ears filled with white noise. Praise spilled from his lips as Hannibal took him to the hilt. When Hannibal looked up at him and their eyes locked, Will was gone. His head snapped back and eyes screwed shut; every nerve ending in his body fired at once. He held Hannibal's head in place has he came down his throat gasping and moaning as Hannibal swallowed.

Finally, Will's fingers relaxed and his heart rate returned to a normal pace. "Wow. That was.." He struggled to regain composure, but Hannibal stood confidently, pulling a handkerchief out his pocket to clean his hands and mouth before he handed it to Will. He made it the door in a few quick strides, turning to pause and face Will one more time. 

"Oh, right. Lunch is ready."

**Author's Note:**

> Listen...I know, okay? I told myself I wasn't going to write self-isolation smut but here we are. Back with the same dumb bitch energy you know and love. As ever, comments, kudos, nudes all appreciated. 
> 
> xx


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